


Threads

by ca_te



Category: Nabari no Ou
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-08
Updated: 2010-09-08
Packaged: 2017-10-11 14:31:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ca_te/pseuds/ca_te
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written on 1st February 2009. This takes place after Yoite has been erased.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Threads

**Author's Note:**

> Written on 1st February 2009. This takes place after Yoite has been erased.

Miharu curls his toes and shifts under the sheets. Outside the sun pours his light over the houses and along the streets of Banten. But it really doesn't matter. Anything does actually, just futile surplus and nothing more. He lets a sigh escape his lips, while he tries to remember what he was dreaming of. And it's like trying to follow the landscape when you're in a car that's speeding along the road. You can try your best but the result it's just that you feel sick and your eyes hurt.

But it's not just the eyes in Miharu's case, it's something deeper, somewhere between his ribs, his heart and his soul or whatever it is. He feels tears welling up his eyes, because, hell, lately it has became so important to him to be able to remember what he has dreamt, and then that sensation is here again, the feeling of something squeezing his finger, something like a thread, he finds himself thinking, a thread that doesn't mean to exist but still remains around his middle finger.

Yukimi has said that he doesn't blame him, that that person should have been important to him.

Hiding is little face, now whet with tears, he just wonders why, why he wasn't able to do it properly, to erase, he trembles at the idea, that someone properly. Now he wouldn't have all these painful fragments everywhere inside and outside of him, around the room, around Banten, in his grandma's okonomiyaki, in Yukimi…

And he feels pain, pain because he has done everything wrong, because he just left voids around in people's heart. He has always thought that as long as he was the only one to suffer, to carry the Shinrabanshou, it would be fine. Just as it has always been, burring things deep inside and face the world with empty green eyes. But now, now he messed all up!

He can't restrain the sobs that shake his whole body, and among the white of the sheets he just finds himself thinking of the stars, stars that flow outside the window of a train, and as always there's that presence. He wonders if he really saw the stars flowing outside of a train sitting next to that person. Was it he or she? And what did that person have to be so special, to make him wish to disappear right here and right now if he won't be able to see him/her again.

Disappear… this single word echoes in the room, now full of light.

Miharu hears his grandmother's foot steps trailing up the stairs and then stop in front of the door.

First knock, he stares at the shadows that the leaves imprint in the ceiling.

Second knock, he just let his eyelids cover his eyes against the morning light.

Third knock, he takes a deep breath.

\- I'm awake, I'm coming.

\- All right sweetheart I'll wait for you downstairs.

 

Outside every thing it's too alive, he can't find a better word, it's just that he feels that there's something wrong in all this movement: students are going to school, cars are passing by, seagulls are flying and…and it just seems terribly wrong to him, as if some important gear is missing.

He already knows that it's nowhere to be found, but just as the thought takes shape in his mind something, which should have really sharp claws, grasps his small frame.

Gasping for air he hold himself up against one of the railings that border the stairs.

And in front of him there's the sea, so huge, so blue and so indifferent, like he used to be.

Today however the sea is not so calm as it should, white shattered lines cross its surface and make Miharu think about scars. The sea today is scarred.

"I'm scarred too?"

Automatically he brings his left hand up to his face, the light shines over the tender, scarless skin.

Biting hard on his lower lip he turns around and head towards the temple, school it's an option that's not to be considered for today, just too many people, people who care about him, while he doesn't want to be precious to anyone. He doesn't want to see Thobari-sensei's worried eyes, Raimei's smiles and he doesn't want to hear reassuring words from Koichi.

 

On the top of the hill the wind blows harder, it plays with Miharu's dark hair.

\- I don't want to play with you!

Miharu says, facing the sea and the wind, is voice low and little and somehow cracked. Breathing slowly he tries to keep his mind blank, it's the only solution he can think of.

But there should be a leak somewhere in his confused mind because images keep flowing inside from nowhere and he fears that he'll be filled soon.

First come the fingers, yes fingers, white, long, thin fingers that makes him think of paper. But as paper can be scrunched up and lost its form so those silky fingers began to dissolve. Replaced by dark landscapes outside a train's window and the sensation of a light body pressed against him, and finally, really out of God knows where apples, green apples.

Miharu covers hid ears and screams against the sky.

\- Please stop, stop! It doesn't make sense!

"And it hurts too much", he adds, but doesn't say it out loud, it seems to private to do so.

Then something pops again in Miharu's mind, those fingers weren't supposed to be, to be still in this world, in his thoughts and they weren't supposed to be white and perfect, they should be bruised in blue and purple.

"How the hell am I supposed to know all this stuff"!

Miharu finds himself sitting on the ground, his back against the railing, shaking between the desire to throw all these images away and erase all the seeds of emotions which that someone, it should be him who has done it, has planted inside of him and the desire, no, the need to be touched by those fingers, to jump on a train whit that unknown shadow and ran away.

Then the wind stops, and Miharu's mind slips again in a blissful blankness. He remains there, his knees to his chest and its face hidden against them.

The salt of the sea air lingers around him and blends with the salt of his tears, different kinds of salt paint the air around Miharu who pulls that thread just a little closer to him thanks to bruised thin fingers and green apples.


End file.
